I’ve been told, a few times, that I have a rather dark way of thinking. I admit to having a black sense of humor, and a rather nasty imagination. I breathe life into the illest things. I am certainly offbeat, weird, and uniquely myself. I don’t expect everyone to “get” me. I don’t “get” most people. It’s not a bad thing. I embrace my quirkiness, and I celebrate the differences between us all.
I have been also told I fit the mold for a Goth. I laughed so hard. I am so not Goth. I am so goofy and silly a lot of the time (something I inherited from my father). I don’t wear black, much, and I am anything but dour or gloomy in personality. In fact, I can be annoyingly chipper sometimes, love pop music, along with R&B, and classical music. At the minimum, what I thought a Goth was a bunch of gloomy kids who want attention on the whole. That was a superficial glance.
Never mind those who saw my “dark” avatar, which was ironically composed on a very bright day. Several of my stories are incredibly dark and could use more darkening. But I also like to laugh, have fun, and be happy. That’s not Goth, right?
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